


THE RASCAL

by erestor



Series: Thieving Magpie [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:43:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erestor/pseuds/erestor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celeborn and his advisor Orophin are trying to talk Elrond into a treaty that would be of great advantage to them, and a big loss for him. Will Erestor be able to help his lord? And will Glorfindel finally manage to tell Erestor how he feels about him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was said that the quickest way to get Lord Celeborn to Imladris was to drop a silver coin on the ground. If one silver coin could cause him to abandon all of his duties to ride to Imladris, how would he react to the news that mithril had been found under Green Meadow Hill?

Elrond had no illusions on that score. Wild horses would not be able to stop Celeborn from coming, seeing, and possibly claiming the fortune. He would arrive with a large guard and, of course, Orophin, that wretched advisor of his. And said advisor would pull out an old tome or scroll and point out a passage that would confirm, at least in Celeborn's opinion, that part of the Mithril was Celeborn's. There would be arguments, tantrums, protests and in the end, defeat on Elrond's part.

Ah, Orophin. Elrond had spent many, many hours dreaming up creative ways to get rid of Celeborn's advisor. Had the Valar given Elrond the choice between mumps or Orophin, he would have chosen the illness. A sore throat and headaches would pass eventually, but Orophin lingered on.

In light of all of that, Elrond was not surprised in the least when a sour looking messenger from Lothlórien arrived to inform him of Celeborn's impending arrival. Elrond only looked up tiredly from his work, and asked: "When?"

"A day. Maybe a day and a half, if you are lucky," the messenger replied.

Elrond paled. That did not leave him much time to arrange things. Could it possibly get any worse?

"Oh, and he will bring the Lady Galadriel with him," the messenger added.

Elrond whimpered.

Quite obviously, it _could_ get worse.

* * *

"Now look at this - a bridge and no guards! What is this supposed to mean?" Celeborn grumbled, and gestured in front of them at the bridge over the Bruinen. Galadriel found the question too boring to answer, so Orophin felt obliged to reply.

"It is very obvious that Lord Elrond does not possess your strategic genius, my lord," he said, bowing his head lightly. Galadriel snorted, but Celeborn was rather oblivious to sarcasm.

"Indeed. I shall have to look through the Imladris guard roster", Celeborn said. "I always had my doubts about Glorfindel's abilities."

The party from Lothlórien approached the bridge, which really did seem to have been abandoned by the guards. A lone fisher sat on the stony parapet, holding a fishing rod and staring at the bobber bobbing up and down in the water.

"Go and ask him where the guards are, Orophin. I wish our arrival to be announced as is proper," Celeborn ordered. Orophin nodded and rode ahead, bringing his horse to a halt behind the fishing Elf.

"Well met, Master Elf," he said, "how are the fish biting today?"

"Sssshhh," the fisher hissed without looking at Orophin, "please be silent, or you will scare the trout away."

Orophin arched one carefully plucked eyebrow. He was not used to being ignored. The Galadhrim snapped to attention at the mere sight of him, and even Lord Celeborn showed respect for his fiendishly clever advisor. Orophin's sharp mind was paired with a fair face and a warrior's stature, and it was said that the handsome advisor had broken as many hearts as contracts.

"I am aware that you are currently busy with a very important task, my friend. However, the Lord and the Lady of the Golden Wood have arrived, and Lord Celeborn wishes to know where the guards are who should announce their arrival."

The fisher shrugged, still not looking up.

"Oh, the guards? Lunch break," he replied, "they should be back in a short time. Can your lord wait that long?"

Orophin found himself at a momentary loss. Such impertinence!

"My lord is not accustomed to waiting for mere guards," he snapped arrogantly, "so drop your fishing pole and announce our arrival to your master. Hurry, young one, my patience is growing thin."

The advisor had expected the young Elf, whom he thought to be one of the kitchen or stable servants, to jump up immediately and hurry back to the Last Homely House. Alas, all Orophin got was another shrug.

"Do you see me wagging a tail? Unless you should hear me bark, you can safely assume that I am an Elf and not a dog, and therefore I do not have a master," the fisher replied. Orophin opened his mouth to carpet the young Elf for his cheekiness, but right then the fisher turned around and gave him a blinding smile.

Orophin's jaw dropped and he just stood there, gazing the Elf in front of him. Large brown eyes, twinkling with mischief. The nose too long, but oddly fitting on the handsome face. Perfectly formed lips. Made for laughing, made for singing, made for kissing. Oh yes, definitely made for kissing! Orophin felt as if he had been struck by lightning; his whole body was tingling.

The Lothlórien Elf cleared his throat.

"My apologies," he said, "it was not my intention to offend you."

The fisher pulled in his fishing line and began to pack up his tools. Orophin admired the long dark hair that was, to his eyes, exotic, and the elegant long fingers.

"I know," the fisher said, "you could do better than this if you tried. You are Orophin, are you not? Lord Celeborn's cunning advisor."

Orophin laughed out loud.

"Indeed! Though 'cunning' is not officially part of my title. You have the advantage of me, Master Elf - you know my name, but I do not know yours."

The fisher rolled up the line and put it in the bag.

"I am Erestor, Lord Elrond's advisor. I am very cunning as well. Every lord needs a cunning advisor, you see, otherwise someone might pull a fast one on him."

Orophin did not show his surprise. So this was the Elf who had secured the Mithril for Elrond? He was hardly past his majority! Orophin had prepared for a seasoned warrior, a sly old fox like himself. So this would be his opponent in the fight over Green Meadow Hills? How delightful!

"Far be it for me or my lord to cause your lord any harm, Master Erestor. On the contrary! We only have his best in mind."

Erestor snickered.

"Oh, I have no doubts about that! Lord Celeborn's altruism is legendary among our people. Indeed, I wonder how he has managed to keep his realm, considering his generous and peaceful nature!"

Orophin grinned.

"I like you, Master Erestor. You seem to be an Elf after my fancy." He looked Erestor up and down, and Erestor caught the double entendre in his statement very well. He slipped off the parapet, slung the bag with the tools and the fishes he had caught over his shoulder, and took the fishing pole.

"We all have our fancies, Master Orophin. I shall now go and announce your arrival. I am sure Lord Elrond will be delighted to welcome you and your party," Erestor said, bowing politely to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel.

"My thanks," Orophin said, "and I am very much looking forward to seeing you again. Maybe you could show me some of Imladris' sights? I am afraid I never had much time to admire its beauty during my previous stays. I would very much love to see some of its more - romantic places."

Erestor bowed his head politely.

"Unfortunately, I do not know much about romantic places," Erestor replied, "but I would love to show you around the tannery and the smithy. Highly educational. You will never want to leave again."

With that, he turned and left to herald the arrival of the Lothlórien party. Orophin waited for a moment, looking after Erestor with a smile.

_I will educate you alright, you cheeky little sprat_ , he said to himself before turning his horse toward the lord and lady, who had been waiting for him impatiently.

"So? Is everything clear and in order?" Celeborn asked, and Orophin nodded.

"Crystal clear, my lord."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Celeborn finds that Imladris has many interesting sights on offer.

"'Do not worry, my lord', you said. 'He is only an Elfling', you said. And what did he do, your harmless Elfling? He led us on! He made us look like imbeciles!"

Orophin thought to himself that, at least with one of them, this was not too hard a thing to do, but he watched his words.

"I still say that you should not worry. I admit that Master Erestor's rhetorical skills surpassed my expectations, but we are only just beginning these negotiations."

Celeborn snorted and kicked a pinecone out of his way.

"I hope that your admiration for this Elfling's 'skills' will not make you lose focus on the serious matters for which we are here. And I do not talk about bedding Erestor, Master Orophin."

Orophin halted his steps, throwing his arms up theatrically.

"My lord Celeborn! How can you even think such a thing! My intentions are the purest! I feel that fair young Erestor needs some guidance, and I am willing to help him with... my experience. So you can see that I only spend time with him out of the sheer goodness of my heart."

Celeborn groaned.

"Please spare me this nonsense, Orophin. I know you and your ways. You have set your mind on bedding Erestor. I do not mind this - your love life is none of my concern - but be warned: should your interests collide with my intentions, I will send you home, and you can spend the next two ages counting spiders in Mirkwood!"

Orophin shook his head and gave his lord his most charming smile. Then he stepped a little closer.

"My lord, you certainly know that I do not do anything without a reason," he said, lowering his voice. "I admit that Master Erestor is a skilled advisor. And it can only be in our own interest if he and I become... good friends. He will be putty in my hands, my lord, and with Erestor out of the way, Elrond will be putty in yours."

Celeborn gave Orophin a stern look. He had always secretly admired his advisor's fair face, but the razor sharp mind behind the hazel eyes and the winning smile made him feel uncomfortable.

"At times, you succeed in scaring even me, Orophin. Let us sit under this tree there and take a rest. I do not wish to return to the Last Homely House yet."

"You wish is my command, my lord," Orophin quickly replied, and the two Elves dropped into the soft grass under an old oak tree. For a while, they sat in silence, each of them contemplating their plans, when suddenly Celeborn sat up straight, spitting out the blade of grass he had been chewing on.

"Now that is what I call a sight for sore eyes! Look over there, Orophin!"

Celeborn grabbed Orophin by the shoulder, and when the advisor looked up, he saw what had excited his lord so much. Indeed, a fair creature!

"My lord, you have impeccable taste, as usual. What a fair face, and what lovely hair."

"And I am quite sure that even more precious treasures are hidden under that ugly robe. Pray tell, Orophin, do you know this beautiful creature?"

Orophin grinned.

"That is Feronil. I heard he was expelled from Lord Elrond's council for total incompetence. I think he is now working as a gardener."

"Interesting. Very interesting. Maybe our stay here will be far more entertaining than I had thought," Celeborn said. His view followed Feronil until the young Elf disappeared in Elrond's rose garden.

"A word of caution," Orophin said. "Your wife is with you, as you remember, and I do not think that she would take kindly to any... multifaceted interests of yours."

Celeborn shrugged.

"Orophin, we are in Imladris. She cannot read minds under the influence of Vilya. The Valar know that I would give my whole fortune if I could talk that ring out of Elrond. I have no wish for complications, solely for some entertainment. And fair Feronil looks very promising. He would look very decorative tied with silk scarves to the headboard of my bed."

Orophin shrugged.

"As you wish, my lord. I just thought it to be my duty to warn you."

Celeborn clenched his jaw.

"I appreciate your concern, Master Orophin, though I am not half the hen-pecked husband you might think me to be. And let me give you a word of warning in return: Glorfindel will not take kindly to any competition."

For a moment, there was silence, with Orophin staring at Celeborn in disbelief. Then he began to chuckle, giggle and finally burst out into loud laughter.

"I fail to see what is so amusing about my remark. For the Valar's sake, stop this ridiculous laughter, you sound like a clogged drainpipe."

"Heartfelt apologies, my lord," Orophin chuckled, trying hard not to laugh again. "However, the mere thought of Erestor with that dusty fossil is just - hilarious! I do not know who told you this, but the Elf was pulling your leg. Erestor is as much interested in Glorfindel as I am in Thranduil of Mirkwood. Glorfindel 's time is over. He would have been better off staying in the Halls of Waiting, instead of sitting here and being useless."

Celeborn shook his head and gave Orophin a stern look.

"This might be true, but it is very obvious that Glorfindel cares deeply for the young one. Of what nature this care is, I do not know, and it is none of my concern. I just advise you to keep in mind that Glorfindel is still an excellent sword fighter. He might be a shadow of his old self today, but he deserves our respect. He has done a lot for our people."

Orophin yawned and stretched, letting himself fall back on to the soft grass.

"Point taken, my lord. However, it will take me no longer than a week to have Erestor at my feet, worshipping every move I make. As for Glorfindel - bad luck. The winner takes it all, the loser stays behind. He will have to find somebody else to keep his bed warm at night."

Celeborn had his doubts, but if somebody should teach his arrogant advisor a lesson, he would be the last one to object. And this aside, pursuing Feronil would be far more interesting than watching Orophin courting Erestor.

He stood up, and brushed grass blades and dry leaves off his robe.

"Let us return to the Last Homely House, Orophin. We need to go through the papers for tomorrow, and I wish for some wine."

"Wine is always a good idea," Orophin agreed, and stood up as well. "I might gift Master Erestor with a bottle of my finest."

"You mean - _that_ wine?" Celeborn asked, arching an eyebrow.

"But indeed, my lord. I do not doubt my talents, but sometimes, a little gentle persuasion can be most helpful in matters of the heart."

The two Elves strode away from the tree, towards the Last Homely House, each of them contemplating their own upcoming hunt and the pleasure of bagging their prey.

* *

"Are they gone?" Elrond whispered. "I cannot see them from here."

Erestor peeked around the green curtain of the leaves.

"They have almost reached the gates, my lord. I think it is safe for us to leave this tree. It is about time; my legs have gone numb and if I had to sit on this tree any longer, I would have started to collect nuts and to build a nest for the winter."

Elrond took a hold of the branch and swung elegantly towards the ground, landing on his feet without wavering once. Erestor hooked his legs over the branch and dropped down backwards, hanging there like a bat, gently swinging to and fro.

"This is a debacle," Elrond groaned, holding his head. "Of all the Elves in Imladris, he had to set his eyes on Feronil! What am I supposed to do now? Oh dear, I am doomed!"

"You are not, my lord," Erestor's voice could be heard from above "Just tell Celeborn that you have first dips on Feronil. I am sure he would respect this."

"Brilliant idea, splendid!" Elrond snapped. "How do you imagine this conversation to go? 'Dear father of my late wife, would you mind if I started a love affair with this lovely Elf here?' Yes, I can see Celeborn dancing with delight."

"Silly me, I had completely forgotten that he is your father in law. Let me think..."

Elrond watched with fascination how Erestor swung gently, his long hair almost reaching the ground.

"Could you also think while sitting or standing, like every other normal Elf?" Elrond asked. "I find your behaviour highly irritating."

"I would have thought that you knew by now that I am not normal, my lord," Erestor replied cheerfully. "This is the perfect position to think, because all the blood goes to the head and nurses the brain. Most of the evil in our world stems from Elves, Men and Dwarves thinking while standing. The blood goes in regions which have little to nothing to do with rational thinking, and the result can be seen everywhere."

Elrond preferred not to comment, though he had to admit there was some truth in Erestor's words. He sat down in the grass, and sighed deeply.

"This will not end well for me, Erestor. Celeborn will sooner or later find out what Feronil means to me. If I am lucky, all this will cost me is the Mithril to calm him. In the worst case, Celeborn will take the Mithril _and_ Feronil."

Erestor chuckled, still swinging from the branch.

"My lord, do not worry about happenings that have not yet come to pass. Leave it up to me to handle this, and all will turn out well."

Elrond looked up and glared at the young Elf.

"Your constant good humour is highly annoying, Master Erestor! Leaving this up to you would be madness. I do not trust you further than I can throw you."

Erestor giggled, took a final swing and jumped down to land beside Elrond with an elegant backflip.

"It speaks for your intelligence that you do not trust me, my lord," he said cheerfully, picking some pieces of bark from his jerkin. "But as you do not have anything to lose, you might as well let me do what I think will be best for you, Imladris, Feronil and, last but not least, myself."

Elrond considered his options for a while, then he slumped his shoulders and got up.

"Very well. Do as you think best, just make sure I will not be involved or know anything about it. And please do me this favour: do not run off to Lothlórien with Master Orophin. At least not before we have come to a decision regarding the Mithril."

Erestor wrinkled his nose.

"My lord, I admit that Master Orophin is very fair of face, and had I met him earlier, I would not have beaten him off with a stick. As a matter of fact, I would have probably used the stick to shoo him to my bedchamber. Alas, times have changed, and the Elf has to be born yet that would make me grovel at his feet."

The advisor sniffed arrogantly and wrinkled his nose.

"Orophin. Now seriously."

"Do not be so toffee-nosed, Master Erestor. Orophin is a seasoned warrior and a sly old fox. You might grovel before him faster than you think."

Erestor did not dignify this statement worthy of a reply, and he marched off towards the Last Homely House. Elrond had to hurry to keep up with the young Elf, silently envying him for the light spring in his steps.

Erestor still had to learn a lot, he mused. Elrond knew all too well what was going on behind the fair face of his light-headed advisor, just like he knew what was going on behind Glorfindel's. And as he was a wise old Elf with a lot of experience, he knew very well that Erestor could not have cared less for his lord, Feronil, the Mithril or possible problems with Celeborn.

Alas, Elrond also knew Erestor well enough by now to be confident that anybody calling Glorfindel a "dusty fossil" was in for unpleasant times. A prospect which, it went without saying, improved Elrond's mood significantly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Glorfindel discusses cold noses and gentle hands.

It was very late when Erestor returned to his chamber, and so he was not surprised to find Glorfindel gone. The warrior was always very cautious about staying the night.

He worried that he and Erestor could become the talk of Imladris.  
He worried that Elrond might be upset.  
He worried about a million things.  
Erestor worried about nothing.

Truth be told, Erestor and Glorfindel had nothing in common. They spent most of the time they were together arguing. Glorfindel did his best to teach Erestor some manners. Erestor did his best to forget everything Glorfindel had told him as quickly as possible.

And yet, neither of them would have wanted to part from the other.

It was an odd companionship those two Elves had. There had never been any talk of love. There were no shared rooms, no signs of affection in public. Erestor had simply claimed a place in Glorfindel's life and bed, and Glorfindel had allowed it. Both would have protested had anybody dared to suggest that they were in love. Glorfindel was too bitter about his former life to admit it, and Erestor was too young to know.

Right now, Erestor was in dire need of company, so he directed his steps to Glorfindel's chamber. After looking right and left to ensure nobody was watching him, he entered.

“Can you not, just for once, enter a room after knocking first like every other Elf?” Glorfindel growled, for he had just been in the process of changing into his sleeping pants and stood naked in front of the bed.

“Pray tell, what Elves come to visit you at this time of the night?” Erestor asked merrily. “I certainly hope it is only I who has the privilege of your illustrious companionship.”

Glorfindel rolled his eyes and tied up his sleeping pants.

“You do not pay any attention to the things I say, but you already talk as stilted as one of Elrond’s other advisors. How come?”

Erestor grinned.

“Because I know it annoys you. And why do you wear those silly pants, anyway? As I will take them off very soon, there is really no point in putting them on in the first place.”

Glorfindel glared at Erestor, but did not answer. He slipped between the sheets, pulling them high up so that only the tips of his ears and some strands of blond hair could be seen, and turned his back demonstratively to Erestor.

Erestor was not impressed. He had figured out very soon that Glorfindel was all bark, but no bite. Quickly he divested himself of his garments, and slipped into the bed, pulling not too gently on the bedsheets.

“Would you please stop stealing the covers, for the Valar’s sake,” Glorfindel muttered. “You have your own bed. Go and sleep in that red-plushed nightmare of yours and leave me well alone.”

Erestor spooned behind Glorfindel and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“It is not red. It is called ‘burgundy’. Furthermore, it is velvet, not plush, you peasant. And it looks far better and feels more comfortable than this chamber here that even an Orc would shun.”

Glorfindel tried to move away from Erestor, but there was the wall, and so he accepted his fight and allowed the rascal to pull him closer. He did not suffer too much, though, as it actually felt very nice being held like this.

Not that he would have admitted it, of course. Instead, Glorfindel continued his lament.

“Orcs shun my home, indeed? So what are you doing here?”

Erestor snuggled closer up and began to nuzzle the nape of Glorfindel’s neck.

“I am here to hug you and squeeze you and call you Fin.”

“Very well, you can stop it then, because I wish neither to be hugged nor squeezed, and definitely not to be called Fin!” Glorfindel stated, but the last syllable turned into a slight squeak as Erestor had begun to run the tips of his fingers gently over Glorfindel’s chest and had touched a particularly sensitive spot.

“Of course you want to,” Erestor purred. “Otherwise you would not have goose-bumps right now.”

“I have goose-bumps because your nose is freezing cold.”

“That is only because it is so long. You know what they say about long noses…”

Glorfindel, on the receiving end of Erestor’s nimble fingers, had no idea what people said about long noses, and he did not care, anyway. It was so wonderful to let go, to allow Erestor to be in charge, and to succumb to the gentle caresses. Now if that ruddy Elf only had been able to keep quiet for just a minute!

Right now, however, Erestor could not talk as he was far too busy nibbling on the tip of Glorfindel’s left ear, and the warrior almost melted into the mattress.

Erestor let go of the ear and began to plant tiny kisses on Glorfindel’s shoulder, while he ran the tips of his fingers over Glorfindel's stomach and hip bones. Those were only ghosts of touches, and Erestor made sure not to touch Glorfindel intimately yet, but he could drive Glorfindel mad with it. The tease - Glorfindel knew well from bittersweet experience that Erestor could have kept this sweet torture up for hours.

As with many things, this was a game of control and power. Every time, Glorfindel was determined not to give in, to make Erestor succumb, and every time, he could not bear it any longer and finally begged Erestor for his release.

But right now, that point was not reached yet, and Glorfindel clenched his jaws. Today, this game would be played by his rules!

Alas, Erestor had different plans. He was now raking his fingernails up the inside of Glorfindel's thigh, at a maddeningly slow speed. Despite his determination not to give in, Glorfindel involuntarily bucked his hips, longing for a more intimate touch. He could feel Erestor's erection nudge at his backside.

"Will you give in?" Erestor whispered, and Glorfindel, biting his tongue to prevent a groan, shook his head firmly.

"Are you sure?" Erestor asked, stroking over the tip of Glorfindel's erection with his fingernail. This darned tease! He knew well which buttons to push, and Glorfindel's self-restraint disappeared into thin air.

"Please..." he groaned, and the lovely fiend teasing him giggled.

"Ah, you are not sure. How comes I am not surprised?" Erestor licked slowly and sensually along the ridge of Glorfindel's ear. "I like it when you beg," he whispered. "Now take yourself, golden one... it is what you want, I know it."

Glorfindel pushed back, sighing happily when he felt Erestor deep inside him. Erestor’s movements were in slow-motion, teasing and making Glorfindel's head spin.

“That is it, just let go. Let me look after you, my beautiful dusty fossil.”

Glorfindel started, and Erestor yelped at the sudden movement.

"Ouch!" he protested. "Do not break anything off that you might wish to use again in future!"

“Beautiful _what_?”

“Fossil. Dusty fossil. You know, the lithified remains of the giant wargs or dragons from the old ages that you can find in the mountains, and which are…”

“I know what a fossil is!” Glorfindel boomed. “What I wish to know is how come you called me one!”

Erestor giggled.

“This, my dear Fin, shall remain my secret for a little while longer. I have to warn you that there will be quite some commotion in Imladris within the next few weeks. I would just kindly ask you to play along, not get upset, trust me in all things and, most importantly of all, not attempt to hunt me down with a battle axe, no matter the circumstances.”

For a while, there was silence. Then Glorfindel asked: “Do I even want to know what you are talking about?”

Erestor pondered on the question.

“Probably not,” he finally answered. “You are only concerned peripherally, anyway. And now relax, Fin. I have dreamt all day of holding you. Do not let possible diplomatic disagreements with Lothlórien and Lord Celeborn on the war path distract you from enjoying the pleasures Middle-earth’s most nimble fingers will bestow upon you.”

Glorfindel relaxed and closed his eyes, leaning back into Erestor’s arms. Who was Celeborn, anyway!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Glorfindel's pride is injured.

Being the skilled hunter that he was, it did not take Celeborn long to find his prey. Feronil sat on a bench beneath one of Elrond's rosebushes and was reading a book. He was so engrossed in the tale that he did not notice when the Lord of Lothlórien approached him.

"Is this book worth reading?" Celeborn asked, and Feronil, taken by surprise, dropped the tome. He bent down to pick it up, but this had also been Celeborn's intention, and so their heads collided.

"My apologies," Celeborn said, and rubbed his forehead. "I hope I did not cause you any pain - I have been told quite frequently that I am rather hard-headed."

Feronil smiled shyly and shook his head.

"Oh no, my lord, please do not apologise, nothing happened. I should have been more careful."

Feronil sat back on the bench. Celeborn mentally rubbed his hands together over this wonderful opportunity to get to know the young Elf and settled beside him.

"So tell me, what is your name, young one? And what are your duties in Rivendell?"

Slightly intimidated by the Elf lord, Feronil shifted uncomfortably.

"My name is Feronil, my lord, and I... do things. For Lord Elrond. Gardening things, mostly."

"Ah, I see."

Of course Celeborn did not see anything but the lovely Elf in front of him. Feronil was impressed by him; good. And very flattered, no doubt. This would make things far easier.

"You are as fair as the roses you look after, Feronil," Celeborn said in a husky voice. Feronil dropped his gaze and a strand of hair fell into his face. Celeborn gently pushed the loose strand behind Feronil's ear, which caused the embarrassed Elf to blush even more.

"You are very kind to say such a thing, my lord, even if it is not true."

Celeborn gave Feronil his most blinding smile.

"Ah, but it is true, Feronil! I dare say that you are the most beautiful flower in Imladris."

Feronil, whose distress Celeborn mistook for being flattered, stood up quickly.

"I... I have to go, my lord, I have to... there are things... I may not be late..." he stammered, then picked up his book and pressed it close to his chest, like a warrior might clutch his shield.

"What a pity, I enjoyed our conversation," Celeborn replied, his face expressing serious regret. "I hope your duties will leave you some time to continue it one of these days."

Feronil did not answer. Celeborn sighed and raised as well.

"Well met, Feronil. I hope we will meet soon again," he said, and was just about to turn and leave when something caught his eye. He reached out and touched the hairclip in Feronil's hair. It was quite a pretty thing, made of mithril with white gems in the shape of a butterfly.

"How curious," Celeborn said. "That looks exactly like the one Elrond usually wears."

"Really? Oh, I did not know that..." Feronil spluttered. "I am sorry, my lord, I really have to go now."

With that, Feronil all but ran away, leaving a puzzled Celeborn behind.

Celeborn scratched his head. Now this was really odd - he was absolutely certain that the hair clip Feronil wore was Elrond's. But why would some gardener wear one of Elrond's precious pieces of jewellery? There could only be two reasons: either the young Elf had stolen the hair clip, or...

Celeborn grinned, and rubbed his hands.

'Elrond, you old rascal,' he thought to himself, 'you have lured this pretty young thing into your bedchamber! How very good to know. This will be most useful in further negotiations!'

Things were really turning out interesting, Celeborn thought. And competing with Elrond for Feronil's affection would make the challenge even more interesting. Though it was not really a challenge after all, for who could resist him, the lord of Lórien?

Celeborn returned to his chambers, a skip in his step and whistling a merry tune.

* * *

"And then he made moo-eyes... and then saw the hair clip... and he said it looks like yours... and then he had this look on his face... and then.... oh, beloved, he will ruin everything!"

"Shhhh, now calm down, everything will turn out just fine, trust me, Feronil."

Elrond held his distraught lover in his arms, kissing Feronil's head and rubbing his arms. His own feelings on the matter were far less optimistic than his words, though. He knew Celeborn well enough to see that he had figured out by now what the true nature of his relationship with Feronil was. And he did not have the slightest doubt that Celeborn would use this knowledge to his advantage.

"You should have seen how he looked at me!" Feronil was red with anger. "He undressed me with his looks! It was disgusting! Who does he think I am?"

Elrond sighed.

"Unfortunately, Celeborn has always had a weak spot for beauty. And you are beautiful, Feronil. Picking a rose and placing it in a vase on his night table or placing a beautiful Elf in his bed makes no difference to him. That the rose and the Elf will wither away after a while is nothing he considers. Once it happens, he will regret it, but all remorse will dissipate as soon as the next beauty catches his eye. He does not mean you any harm, Feronil. He just wishes for company and distraction."

"Then I suggest he goes to bother Lady Galadriel or buys a dog!" Feronil hissed, and closed his hands into fists. "I will neither keep him company nor - distract him!"

He covered Elrond's face with sloppy kisses.

"I certainly hope so!" Elrond said and tried to look outraged. "I have exclusive rights on your distracting skills!"

Feronil had to laugh.

"You know you have, beloved."

Elrond smiled at him dotingly.

"I have not been anywhere as happy for the last centuries as I am now with you, Feronil. I will do anything to keep you out of harm's way; you must trust me on this."

Feronil pressed a kiss on Elrond's forehead.

"I know, Elrond. I fully trust you, with my life, if I have to."

Elrond felt miserable upon looking into Feronil's trusting eyes. For the only hope he had was Erestor, and that was like relying on a paper ship while sailing down the Bruinen.

'Do not fail me, Erestor,' he thought.

* * *

"Lord Glorfindel! You here on the training grounds? What a lucky coincidence! I finally get to see the legendary Balrog-slayer in action then!"

Glorfindel gnashed his teeth. He did not like having spectators during the sword training with the guards, especially not Orophin. Looking at the handsome Elf with his silver hair, regal and noble in the uniform of the Galadhrim, Glorfindel felt very uncomfortable with his unkempt hair, and dressed in his old garments. There was not a speck of dust on Orophin's uniform, while Glorfindel was drenched in sweat and covered in grime.

"Unless you have brought a Balrog with you, I am most afraid that you will be disappointed," Glorfindel snapped.

Orophin gave him his most charming smile.

"How could I be disappointed, my lord! Why, I consider myself favoured by the Valar to meet you here. Please do not let me interrupt your training, I shall sit here, watching you and hoping to profit from your wealth of battle experience."

'Smug bastard,' Glorfindel thought, but he kept his mouth shut, shrugged and returned his attention to the guard with whom he had been sparring.

The training had continued for about ten minutes when Glorfindel got distracted by Orophin's vocal welcome for Erestor.

'Just the one I need now. How nice,' Glorfindel thought, and he felt like the hair on the nape of his neck bristled at the cheerful and cordial way Erestor returned Orophin's greeting.

"Break of five minutes," Glorfindel ordered. The guards nodded gratefully and retreated into the shadow, while Glorfindel strode across the training grounds to where Orophin and Erestor were already involved in a lively conversation.

A conversation that was not immediately interrupted to welcome him when he reached the two. First Glorfindel had to witness at least another minute of laughter, lash-batting and hair flips.

'He is flirting with Orophin!' Glorfindel's heart skipped a beat. This could not be! Erestor was his, he needed him! He was important to him!

He - loved him.

The enormity of this revelation made Glorfindel sway, and he would have stumbled over one of the tree trunks that framed the training grounds if Erestor had not quickly jumped up and steadied him. Glorfindel was once again amazed at the speed and elegance of Erestor's movements, though he would have preferred if the rascal had used those skills to get away from Orophin as quickly and elegantly as possible.

"Master Erestor."

"Lord Glorfindel."

Though Orophin's facial expression of polite interest did not slip, he was actually grinning. Those two, lovers? Good grief, Celeborn was really getting old. If anything, Erestor showed Glorfindel the respect and slightly snot-nosed attitude that a young mortal woman might show her senile grandfather. Romance? The laugh!

Erestor had swallowed the bait and was now hanging on Orophin's hook, there could be no doubt. When Erestor sat down again and batted his lashes at Orophin, the advisor could not help a small, smug smile.

"It seems that Lord Glorfindel is tired from his training. Maybe we should not further tire him with our chatter, Erestor. Shall we return to the Last Homely House? You wanted to show me the most romantic spots..."

Glorfindel's head turned lobster red.

"I am not tired at all," he hissed. "I could take you out any time, Master Orophin!"

Erestor rolled his eyes, for he knew very well that this had been just the thing Orophin had been waiting for. And indeed! Orophin jumped up, all smile and cheerfulness.

"Why, how very kind of you to offer me a chance of sparring with you, Lord Glorfindel!" he said, bowing his head. "I have hoped for such an encounter, but would, of course, have never dared to ask you. Guards! Give me a sword!"

Erestor slapped his head when Orophin turned his back to him. It was clear to see how this would end. Glorfindel was a skilled, seasoned warrior and, in his younger days, he would have taken out Orophin with one hand tied to his back. But now he was tired, worn out, and suffered from his many scars. Erestor knew it, for he had kissed each and every single one of them while Glorfindel had told him the tale to go with it.

Orophin was given his training sword and, though it was a blunt blade, it swished dangerously when he made a few experimental swings.

"Show me what you can do, Balrog-slayer," Orophin smiled. "And show Erestor as well," he added in a low voice.

Glorfindel attacked Orophin fiercely, but the other had no problem avoiding the blow. Blades collided over and over again. Sweat began to penetrate the back of Orophin's jerkin, leaving dark stains.

Erestor bit his nails. He had been extra-flirty with Orophin to lure him away from Glorfindel, but of course this stubborn old battle-horse had to cross his plans. Now Orophin would embarrass him in front of all the guards.

Needless to say, Erestor could not allow this to happen, and began to search around in his pockets for Glorfindel's rescue.

Meanwhile, also Glorfindel realised that he was fighting a lost battle. His blows got weaker while Orophin, despite breathing heavily, was still strong and not tired in the least. What a humiliation! In front of his guards and, even worse, in front of Erestor! Glorfindel felt his hate forming a hard, hot ball in his stomach. It was a good thing they fought with blunt blades, or he might have been tempted to commit a kin slaying.

For a moment, Orophin's smile disappeared and he shook his head in irritation. Something had blinded him, maybe the reflection of the sun off one of the guards' weapons, and black spots appeared before his eyes. Glorfindel used this short moment of confusion to strike and hit the sword from Orophin's hand.

"Thank you for the fight," Glorfindel gasped, and added some pressure on the blade which poked into Orophin's chest.

Orophin's eyes sent daggers at Glorfindel, but he produced a charming smile with amazing speed.

"I see you are still a master of your skill," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You have certainly won this fight."

Glorfindel dropped the sword and took a deep breath.

"I have. And I am also willing and capable of winning the war, Master Orophin."

Orophin grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"We shall see, Lord Glorfindel."

"You lost, Orophin!" Erestor crowed cheerfully and for everyone to hear, then he let the little mirror slip back in his pocket just before Orophin could see it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some count their wounds and others their blessings.

"Just what were you trying to prove there?" Erestor asked. He applied the healing balm not too gently on Glorfindel's bruises, which made the warrior bite the cushion a couple of times.

"Orophin provoked me," came the muffled reply. Erestor snorted and slapped another dollop of balm on Glorfindel's shoulder.

"You sound like an Elfling. 'Nana, little 'Phin hit me first, so I had to kick him with my little booties!' This is ridiculous. And you are not making my work any easier."

"Work? Batting your lashes at that imbecile is work?" Glorfindel turned around, looking at Erestor with outrage.

"Indeed, it is," the advisor answered. Seeing that Glorfindel was not willing to keep still for further treatment, he screwed the lid back on the little pot and put it aside. Glorfindel's mood did not improve at all when Erestor removed his hands, and he continued to rant.

"You are not working. You are flirting! Do you really think I did not notice? You have no idea what you are getting yourself into! Orophin does not have his reputation for his skills at flower picking!"

Erestor shook his head.

"Fin, I do not care if Orophin is a masterful flower-picker or if he picks his nose in a so-far unheard-of manner. Celeborn wants the mithril, Orophin has every intention on taking it, and I have every intention of crossing their plans. Unusual circumstances demand for unusual actions."

Glorfindel frowned, and Erestor had to smile. He played with a strand of Glorfindel's hair and inclined his head.

"I thank you for your warnings, but they are not needed. And I have to admit that I find your jealousy very charming."

Glorfindel jerked back.

"I am not jealous! I have no reason to be - after all, this was never..."

"This was never what, Fin?" Erestor asked, and narrowed his eyes.

"This was never you and me being, well, you know... you can do what you want, after all we are not... and we have never agreed to..."

Erestor felt the urge rise to stick his fingers in his ears and sing "la la la", for this conversation had been held many times before, and it did not improve with repetition. He probably would have to live with the fact that Glorfindel would never admit that Erestor meant something to him.

A scary thought crossed Erestor's mind. What if Glorfindel was not just an uptight old stiff, and Erestor actually really did not mean anything to him?

"... and it was my understanding that..."

Maybe he was just a nice distraction for Glorfindel? After all, nobody seriously enjoyed being lonely...

"... so I thought we had an agreement there..."

Maybe it was true and he was really too young to truly understand the nature of one like Glorfindel?

"... so what do you say, Erestor?"

Maybe he had got lost in some childish dreams, and if that was the case, then it was high time to wake up. Erestor stood up from the bed and cracked his knuckles.

"I say that it is time for my dinner with Orophin," he said, slipped off the bed and headed for the door.

"Dinner? With Orophin? But - but I thought you wanted to dine with me tonight..." Glorfindel stammered.

Erestor turned around.

"Yes, indeed. But then he sent me an invitation, and after your little speech I do not feel the need to watch your sourly face across the table all night."

Glorfindel looked crestfallen, and if Erestor had not been so hurt, he might have felt pity for him.

"But I thought you and me would... I thought you would... you know... stay with me tonight...?"

Erestor opened the door.

"You and me, as you so correctly pointed out, 'are not and will not'. At least not with each other. I wish you a pleasant evening in the company of mother thumb and her four daughters."

With that, he rushed out, leaving a rather uncomfortable looking Glorfindel behind.

* * *

"I hope you enjoyed the meal," Orophin said, and dabbed his lips with a napkin.

"It was delicious," Erestor replied. The view he graced Orophin with and the sly smile indicated that he was probably talking not only about the grilled chicken, but about his host as well.

Orophin leant back in his chair and stretched his lean body.

"This was a clever trick, by the way," he said casually, and reached for the wine.

"Trick?" Erestor asked, arching an eyebrow.

"This afternoon. The mirrors. I appreciate the way you helped Glorfindel to keep his face. It shows that you know loyalty, and that's a good quality if not overdone."

Erestor felt caught, and a little bit angry with himself as well for not being more careful.

Orophin laughed.

"Now, now, do not pull such a sourly face, my friend. You are without a doubt a very skilled thief and a talented advisor. But there is still a lot for you to learn. And this is lesson one: never underestimate your enemies."

Orophin took a swig of the wine, then put the glass down. The hazel eyes sparkled with mirth, and Erestor swallowed hard.

"I have never considered you to be an enemy," he said after a moment of contemplation. "An opponent - yes. Have I been wrong in my assumption? Do I need to watch my back and hire a tester?"

Orophin grinned.

"Ah no, there is no need for that. At least not if things will develop the way I plan them to." He dipped a finger in the wine and circled the rim of the chalice. A high-pitched, piercing sound could be heard, and Erestor winced.

"Will you share your plans with me, or have you invited me for the sole purpose of rupturing my eardrums?" he asked.

Orophin stopped immediately.

"Now that would be a waste," he replied, and licked the wine off his finger. Erestor followed each of his movements with growing fascination.

"I have asked you to share dinner with me for two reasons: I want to convince you firstly, to follow me to Lothlórien, and secondly, to spend the night with me. One of many, I hope. I think we would both profit greatly from such an arrangement."

Erestor shook his head, greatly confused by Orophin's offer, which had been made in a very casual, almost businesslike way.

"Orophin - I cannot decide if I should be flattered or insulted by your offer. Certainly you are aware that I do not - love you?"

"Love?" Orophin laughed. It was a cheerful, heartfelt laughter, which confused Erestor even more.

"My dear Erestor, of course you do not love me! Nor do I love you. Love is a luxury I cannot afford in my position. But I find you amusing and fascinating, not to mention the fact that you are most fair of face. I would enjoy your companionship greatly, and I dare say that you could learn a lot from me."

Erestor stared at Celeborn's advisor open mouthed. Had Glorfindel been right? Was Orophin too big a fish to fry?

"You certainly know that I cannot leave Imladris, Orophin. I serve as an advisor to Lord Elrond as punishment for my thieveries in the past. I cannot leave at leisure."

Orophin rolled his eyes.

"Good grief, Lord Elrond. Why worry about him? Worry about yourself, live your life as it suits you best. You do not owe him anything. Nor do you owe anything to Glorfindel, by the way."

Orophin reached for a scroll that was lying on a side table, and waved it at Erestor.

"This, my friend, is the answer to all your questions and Lord Elrond's prayers. Come here, I will show you what my admittedly very brilliant mind has come up with."

Erestor obeyed, stood up and walked over to Orophin, who had pushed his seat back and patted the table invitingly.

"Sit here, my friend. You are a far more beautiful decoration than the flowers and the candles."

Erestor's mind was racing. He was afraid, realising that Orophin really was a sly old fox who could be dangerous to him, but he was also excited. Intelligence attracted him, and in the warm light of the candles, Orophin seemed to be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Glorfindel was nice to look at, all things considered, but Orophin was - enchanting. And Erestor felt that he was under his spell.

Erestor pushed carefully dishes, cutlery and glasses back, and sat on the table. Orophin handed him the scroll.

"Read," he ordered, and Erestor began to unroll the paper. Once he had finished, he frowned.

"You must be joking," he said.

"On the contrary," Orophin replied. "Celeborn wants the Mithril, all of it, and let us be honest: he will get it. If you sign this agreement, Elrond will get 25%, which is far better than nothing. In return, you accompany me to Lothlórien."

Erestor's eyes narrowed to small slits.

"Do you really think you can buy me, Orophin?"

The Lórien Elf shook his head.

"No, and that is not my intention. Once we have left Imladris, you are free to go wherever you wish. I would welcome it if you would stay with me, of course, but the decision is all yours. But consider your options, Erestor: you could learn from the best! You would be in the centre of Arda's power! Imladris is a nice place to stay with nice Elves - but Lothlórien, Erestor, Lothlórien is the heart of Elvendom!"

Erestor looked at Orophin, then he re-read the agreement. Orophin was right, of course. The books and contracts on which Celeborn based his demands were ages old and must have been set up by idiots, but they were still valid. He had only delayed Lord Elrond's defeat; he would not be able to prevent it. Especially not with Celeborn stalking after Feronil, as it would only take the sly old Elf a short time to figure out the nature of the relationship between Elrond and the young Elf.

And then there was Orophin, of course.

"Can I think about it?" Erestor asked.

Orophin smiled. He began to run his hand up Erestor's thigh, slowly, and all the while, he looked at Erestor with a smile that showed he was very confident of his victory. Erestor began to sweat; the evening had taken a most unexpected turn.

"I would rather say: learn about all options before you make a decision," Orophin said, and fumbled with the laces on Erestor's trousers. Erestor, still holding the quill, stared down at him in disbelief. 'I should shove that document down his throat and leave,' he thought, but at the same time, he longed for the touch of those strong yet elegant hands. He could not help but wonder what it would be like to be with Orophin.

"Nice," Orophin commented, and Erestor yelped when he felt the cool hands on his heated skin. Orophin said 'nice' like a farmer would have commented on the size of a carrot and, in a way, this comparison was not that far-fetched.

Orophin's hand closed around Erestor's cock.

"How is the decision process progressing, Erestor?" he asked in the same casual tone, and at the same time, he squeezed slightly.

"How can I think about anything if you do this?" Erestor gasped.

"Do you like it?"

"I find this conversation bizarre, to say the least," Erestor replied.

Orophin grinned.

"Really? I find it very inspiring."

He made short work of Erestor's trousers, and they soon pooled around his ankles. He probably looked very stupid, but this was the least of his concerns now.

More squeezing and pumping, alternated with slow licks of a wicked, wet tongue and the painful torture of breathing on his heated flesh. Indeed, Erestor found it difficult to think.

Orophin enjoyed himself greatly. This was going better than he had hoped, and it was a delight to see Erestor in a state of such passion. To think that Erestor could be his! He truly liked the young Elf, and desired him. But he also saw the political potential of the advisor. Having someone to teach and lead, a loyal confidante by his side, was something he had desired for many years.

"Orophin..." Erestor groaned, and that was about the last thing that could be heard from the usually so vocal advisor for quite a while. Limp and exhausted, he lay on the table, not noticing that he had just flattened the apple cake.

"You look delightful. I hope we can repeat this experience soon, with mutual participation."

Orophin joined Erestor on the table, his body covering Erestor's lithe one. He ran his hands through the dark hair, marvelling at its heaviness, and licked along the ridge of Erestor's ear.

"So... have you come to a decision, my lovely one?" he asked.

Erestor purred and nuzzled Orophin's neck.

"You know me all too well already, Orophin," he said. "Do you have a quill?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Feronil is willing to sacrifice his honour.

Glorfindel was furious. He was angry with Erestor, with Orophin, but most of all with himself. He looked at his face in the mirror, saw the shadows under his eyes and shook his head.

"Fool," he said. "Idiot, moron, imbecile."

He would have continued this self-chastisement had he not ran out of expletives. Erestor could have helped him out, of course, but Erestor was not here. Erestor was out doing - nothing Glorfindel wished to know.

Then again, maybe he did want to know. After banging his head three more times against the wall of his bedchamber, he left to seek out Erestor and yell at him. Or apologise. Why did this all have to be so difficult? He wanted with all his heart to tell Erestor that he loved him, and that he wanted the happy-go-lucky thief to stay with him.

And what had he done? Told Erestor that there was no commitment. Fantastic. Splendid. Just - brilliant.

Glorfindel glared at the door of Erestor's chamber with such anger that the worms in the woodwork hurried to seek shelter in the doorframe.

"Life is full of difficult decisions," Elrond often used to sigh when trying to reconcile two squabblers while holding court, and Glorfindel heartily agreed with his lord. He could open the door, find a sulking Erestor and continue their argument. Or find no Erestor at all and spend the rest of the night brooding over Erestor's whereabouts and the company he was in.

Then, of course, there was option number three, which he preferred not to consider, as it would end with either his or Orophin's early demise.

Life was indeed full of difficult decisions. Glorfindel sighed deeply, then turned on his heels and returned to his own chambers. Sometimes, he thought, it was better not to know what was behind a door.

* * *  
The next day saw Orophin entering the Great Hall with a spring in his step and whistling a merry tune. He joked with the maids who served breakfast and made them blush, amused everybody present with his witty remarks, and it took all of Glorfindel's self-restraint not to dive over the table and strangle the smug bugger.

Luckily, Erestor was nowhere in sight, and Glorfindel was not sure whether this was a good sign or not. His spirits lifted slightly when he noticed that Orophin's gaze wandered through the hall, obviously searching for someone. Good, so Master Smirkophin had no idea where Erestor was, either. Maybe there was still hope.

Glorfindel returned his attention to the food on his plate, and when he imagined Orophin's head on a plate, nicely decorated with lettuce, an apple in his mouth and parsley in his ears, he ate with renewed appetite.

* * *

Erestor was too busy trying to win Feronil for his cunning plan to think of a mundane thing such as breakfast. The two young Elves sat under a tree and were involved in a heated debate.

"I will not do it!" Feronil stated firmly, and shook his head.

"Now stop being so difficult," Erestor snapped. "Close your eyes and think of Imladris!"

Feronil shivered.

"This is disgusting! I think Celeborn is revolting! How can you ask me to... expect me to... do youknowwhat!"

Erestor rolled his eyes.

"Good grief, one would think I had asked you to drag him to your bedchamber and get involved in lewd activities."

"Well, that is exactly what it sounded like to me!" Feronil snapped back.

"No, silly. I asked you to invite him for a romantic tryst. I did not ask you to tear off his clothes. All I want you to do is to bat those lovely long lashes of yours, grace him with a shy blush and lick your lips when he looks. Then you ask him to meet up with you in the pavilion tomorrow at midnight and do as I told you."

Feronil shuffled his feet.

"And I will not have to do anything indecent?" he asked, still unsure.

"I promise you that neither your honour nor your backside shall be touched," Erestor declared solemnly. "And do not forget: you can help Elrond greatly by doing this," he added perfidiously.

That was all Feronil needed to hear.

"Very well then - for Elrond, I shall do it," he declared, and took a deep breath. Then he poked Erestor with his index finger in the chest. "But this I swear: if you bring me in an embarrassing situation, or if anything should happen that could get Elrond into trouble, there will be no hole deep enough in all of Middle-earth for you to hide in from my wrath!"

Erestor threw up his arms, all righteous indignation.

"Good grief, how can you even think of me doing such a thing! I am an Elf of great honour, renowned for both my sense of justice and my honesty! This aside," he grinned, "I am far too scared by your Finger of Doom. Put it back in your pocket, before you poke an eye out."

Feronil returned the smile, but he felt decidedly uncomfortable about the whole matter. What if Celeborn would not fall for his charms? And, even worse: what if he _would_?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Galadriel enters the stage.

There was only so much banner-sewing one could take. When the discussion on the subject of cross-stitching became once again rather heated, Galadriel excused herself and escaped Arwen's sewing circle. She would have much preferred to see Elrond's guards spar in the training grounds, or gone hunting with her grandsons. Alas, everybody was busy, and she found herself seated on a nicely carved bench, reading a book that did not interest her.

The negotiations had gone well so far, at least for Celeborn. She knew the value of Mithril, and it was nice to have it, but there were more important things to life. Somehow Celeborn had lost his spirit over the years, unlike Elrond's new advisor. And such a charming and handsome Elf he was! It was obvious that the rumours of his former life as a thief had been greatly exaggerated, if not even completely made up. Such an innocent face – how could Erestor possibly ever have caused trouble?

Galadriel was distracted in her musings over Erestor's noble mindedness by a heart-breaking sigh. 'Someone must be in distress,' she thought, but though she looked around, nobody could be seen, so she returned her attention to her book.

A few moments later, she was interrupted again, this time by a stifled sob.

"Whoever you are, come out and show yourself," she said kindly. "I do not mean you any harm."

After a moment, the privet bush behind her trembled and Erestor emerged. The eyes of the young Elf were red and puffy; quite obviously, he had been crying.

"I am so sorry, my lady, I had no intention of disturbing you. Please forgive me, I shall leave immediately," he pleaded, looking utterly miserable.

Galadriel patted the empty space beside her on the bench, and smiled at Erestor.

"Come, sit by me and tell me of your problem. I have lived for many ages, even if one could not tell from my youthful looks, and I am confident that I can help you with wise counsel."

Erestor sat shyly on the bench, as far away from Galadriel as possible.

"Now tell me, Erestor, what has happened? Have you been treated unjustly? Has my husband been unkind?"

"He broke my heart! This miserable son of a four pawed female animal! Broke it and tore it out and danced a jig on it!"

"My husband?" Galadriel cried, but Erestor shook his head, so she passed him her handkerchief.

"Pray tell, who was the thoughtless Elf who has led you on in such away?"

Erestor blushed, looking very young and helpless.

"O-o-orophin," he whispered.

"Orophin?"

Of course Orophin. She could have thought of this herself. Had there ever been a case of heartache he had not been involved? The Valar knew why Celeborn insisted on keeping that rascal in Lothlórien.

"Tell me what he did, Erestor, and I shall see to it that he will be punished!"

Erestor shook his head.

"Oh no, my dear lady, I do not wish to see him punished. It was entirely my fault, you see. Everybody had warned me, I just thought I knew better and did not listen. No, I do not want him to be punished; I care too much for him. I could not bear to see him suffer."

By now, Galadriel's compassion was in competition with her curiosity.

"Has he cheated on you? Lied? Tell me all there is to know, Erestor. As he is one of my people, I am at my rights to know what he is up to."

Erestor gave her a grateful look, accompanied by a shy smile.

"You are too kind, my lady, but I really do not think I could ever tell you what really happened..."

He broke off. Tears hung in the long dark lashes, and Galadriel was filled with a holy rage against Orophin, this ruthless philanderer, who had broken the heart of this innocent young Elf.

"Enough with the riddles. Out with it!"

Erestor the handkerchief in his hands nervously, and gave Galadriel a scared look. He considered his words, then he nodded.

"You see, my lady, I just learned that Orophin...."

* * *  
Glorfindel bit his lip and cursed. What in the Valar's name was Erestor discussing with Galadriel, of all the Elves? And why was he crying? He had never seen the usually so happy Elf crying. Had anybody hurt him?

Of course someone had hurt him. And Glorfindel knew very well who that someone was. Oh, if he only had the ability to kick himself! There he was, poor Erestor, crying his eyes out, and all because Glorfindel had not found the courage to be honest with him!

"Are you hunting for snails, Glorfindel, or are you picking daisies?"

Glorfindel jumped and almost fell over Elrond, who had sneaked up on him. When Elrond detected the object of Glorfindel's attention, he smiled.

"Ah, I see. You are still trying to catch your thief."

"He is crying," Glorfindel stated the obvious. He also looked very guilty.

"Has anything come to pass that I should know of, Glorfindel? I noticed that you two are not talking with each other anymore. Was there a disagreement? Is there anything I could do to help?"

Glorfindel gazed sadly and longingly at Erestor. The sight of the crying Elf broke his heart.

"I caught my thief, but I was too much of a fool to keep him. Now somebody else is holding his heart, and I cannot blame anybody else but myself for it."

How much Erestor's presence had changed Glorfindel, Elrond thought. The warrior had only truly returned from the Halls of Waiting when he had brought Erestor to Imladris. And now Glorfindel prepared for endless years of loneliness. The horror of this prospect reflected on his face.

Seeing his friend in such pain distressed Elrond greatly, and he became angry. One did not need a palantír to know what had happened. Orophin had very likely found another trophy for his collection.

"I can only guess what has happened, Glorfindel, but this I know: Erestor might not be faithful, but he would never betray you," Elrond said, looking warmly at his friend.

Glorfindel did not answer. He just stared at Erestor, who was just wiping his nose on the sleeve of Lady Galadriel's robe.

* * *

Celeborn winked at his face in the mirror. What a day! He had to give Erestor credit for his strategy, and for one so young, he was certainly cunning. In a couple of centuries, he would be a power to reckon with in Imladris. Alas, this time, Erestor and Elrond had lost, had to leave the council with their tails between their legs, and it had taken all of Celeborn's self-restraint not to grin smugly.

It was not that he disliked Elrond. He was just an Elf who appreciated the value of beautiful things, be it Mithril, gems or Elves. Ah, Feronil – this victory was almost sweeter than deciding the negotiations for himself! How shy he had been, and how sweet! And how naughty! Who would have thought that this pretty flower had thorns?

Celeborn hummed a sweet tune. "At midnight, at the pavilion," Feronil had said, and the memory of his voice's husky tone made Celeborn's skin tingle. The pavilion had once been the guesthouse for visitors of great honour. After little Legolas had set the carpet on fire while visiting with his father, it was rarely used anymore, though. A romantic place, the distance to the Last Homely House great enough to guarantee discretion and solitude. The old-fashioned bed with the intricately carved headboard added to its special charm – and in that bed, victory would be his this night!

Celeborn switched from humming to singing, and headed for the bathing chamber to prepare for his tryst with fair young Feronil.

* * *

Orophin's thoughts were of a similar nature to his lord's. How well the negotiations had gone! Tomorrow, the contracts would be signed, and Elrond had better not look as disappointed as today. Had they not left him 25% of the Mithril? This was far more than what was legally his. And ah, had it been a pleasure seeing Erestor fighting with teeth and claws! Orophin had not expected anything less from him, signed agreement or not. What spirit!

And tonight, Erestor would be his. His, his, his alone. Take that and choke on it, Glorfindel. Orophin had greatly enjoyed seeing Glorfindel's discomfort during today's meeting. He did not wish the warrior any harm, but Orophin was not used to losing. He was a hunter, a warrior, and by now, he was in a state of excited expectation. Erestor would be his – he would not have been a suitable mate for Glorfindel, anyway. The old warrior should seek a nice, matronly Elven lady who would mend his socks and rub his sore back with a healing ointment in cold winter nights.

Erestor was a free spirit, and should not be kept locked up here in Imladris, where nothing ever happened or changed. Orophin would teach him all an advisor had to know. Plus a couple of things an advisor did not need to know but which Orophin found very pleasant between the bed sheets. He could hardly wait to show off Erestor in Lothlórien, knowing very well that he would be the envy and talk of the town with such an Elf by his side.

So Orophin headed for the bathing chamber too but, as Celeborn had used all the hot water, he had to take a cold shower. This, he decided, was definitely the worst possible way to prepare for a night of passion.

* * *

"What a sight," Celeborn said upon entering the pavilion. Feronil, clad only in a thin white linen shirt and a pair of loose sleeping pants, lay sprawled on the bed. His dark hair made a fascinating contrast to his fair skin, and Celeborn swallowed hard upon thinking of the pleasures he would enjoy this night.

"You are too generous," Feronil whispered. "I am nothing but a mere Elf who feels greatly honoured that you have even noticed him."

Celeborn threw his light cloak carelessly over a chair, and headed for the bed.

"How could I not notice you? I would rather say that I must have been blind during my former visits not to fall for your charms immediately!" he declared, and sat down on the foot end of the bed.

Feronil shifted slightly, allowing the shirt to slip over one shoulder.

"How could I resist such kind words," he said, fluttering his eyelashes and blushing like a maiden. "But as flattering as your words are, I would not mind if actions would follow your words. Much have I heard of your prowess, I cannot wait to find out whether the rumours are true."

Feronil sat up, and his long hair cascaded over his shoulders. Celeborn was allowed to see even more flawless skin, and what little of his blood had been left in his brain headed south in a hot rush.

Celeborn did not know, of course, that Feronil wished ten thousand unwashed Orcs on his chest, and on Erestor's too. That Celeborn fell for this travesty did not really speak for the lord's intelligence, but then again, when had the brain ever had any say in matters of lust? Feronil himself was not exactly the epitome of sensibility when lying in Elrond's arms, his vocabulary reduced to groans and grunts.

Feronil felt a little guilty, for one because he was leading Celeborn on, for another because he actually did enjoy the flattery. He only hoped that Elrond would never learn of Erestor's plan, or they would both spend the rest of their days counting Orcs in Mirkwood or stealing horses in Rohan. Why oh why had he ever listened to Erestor and agreed to this madness? He must have been insane!

Meanwhile, Celeborn had moved closer, and Feronil could feel his hot breath on his face. What was it that Erestor had said? "Close your eyes and think of Imladris."

"Are you good to your promise, my lord?" Feronil breathed into Celeborn's ear.

"I am, my handsome," Celeborn replied. "Your rules, your wishes. I am nothing but a mere servant to you this night. For all other nights, however…" He broke off and winked at Feronil.

"So here are my wishes, my lovely lord," Feronil said, and Celeborn was only too ready to comply.

***

While Orophin made his way to his tryst with Erestor, he considered the options for the night. He had not fully figured out yet what kind of lover Erestor might be. Passionate – yes. But was he more the romantic type? Or did he prefer his lover to take the lead? Was he dominant? Probably the latter – he could well imagine how Erestor had led Glorfindel around by a yoke ring. For various reasons, this picture amused Orophin greatly, and he snorted.

The place was dark, not a single candle had been lit. Good – Erestor was careful, also, in matters of the heart. It was one thing for Glorfindel to know that he had lost the war, but Orophin did not want him to lose face in front of all of Imladris.

At least not yet.

Orophin opened the door, and looked around, making sure that he was not watched. Then he slipped inside the room and, indeed, there was Erestor, waiting for him. The night sky was covered by dark clouds, announcing rain for the next day, and there was not much Orophin could see, but the agitated breathing of his partner told him all there was to know. He slipped out of his clothes as quickly as he could, then threw himself on the bed, covering Erestor's light body with his own.

"Now you are mine, my beautiful," he cried triumphantly.

* * *

There are moments in an Elf's life that he will never forget. The first time he fought an Orc, for example. The first time he rode a horse.

And not to forget the first time he finds himself naked on top of his lord while noticing at the same time that said lord's wife is standing in the doorway.

"I cannot wait for your explanation of this situation," Galadriel said, and her voice was probably heard in all of Imladris and beyond.

Orophin jumped off the bed and covered his nakedness with the bedcover. This was unfortunate for Celeborn, who had nothing to cover himself with, but as he was bound to the headboard with two pieces of silk, he would not have been able to move, anyway.

"My lady, I can explain this," Orophin hastened to say. "It is not at all what it looks like."

Galadriel, her face lobster-red, stood there akimbo, clearly not amused.

"Orophin, I do not wish to hear another word from you. You are naked. My husband is naked. Do you think me a fool? This is an outrage! How long has this been going on behind my back? Not that it comes as a total surprise, of course – I had suspected that you advised my husband on more than contracts and agreements for a good while. But this is just… I have no words!"

By now Celeborn had recovered from his shock enough to enter the discussion.

"Galadriel… petal… please believe me, I never ever thought of… I mean, it is Orophin, for the Valar's sake!"

Orophin, still clutching the bedcover, spun around.

"Now what does that mean? I dare say nobody would have to be ashamed of being in my grace! What am I, cooked liver?"

"Do you want an honest answer?" Celeborn spat.

"Quiet, both of you! Immediately! I am the betrayed party here! I and this poor Elf!"

The 'poor Elf' stepped out from behind Galadriel's back.

"My lady, please… do not get upset. I had so hoped that I was wrong, but alas… oh, how can I ever forgive myself for upsetting you so!"

Both Orophin and Celeborn stared open-mouthed at Erestor. After a moment of shock, Orophin roared like a wounded tiger.

"You! You... you... you sneaky weasel! My lady, this is a trap, set up by Erestor! Look at the scroll in the pocket in my cloak! He lured me here, inviting me for a romantic tryst! Read it! Then you will see that me and my lord Celeborn are nothing but innocent victims of this... this rascal!"

Erestor looked a little worried when Orophin mentioned the scroll, and Orophin almost felt on top of the situation again.

Galadriel looked at Orophin, then at her husband. Finally she nodded and reached for Orophin's cloak.

"Very well. It is nothing but fair to hear both sides. But this had better be the truth, Orophin," she replied icily, and grabbed for the scroll. She unrolled it, read it, arched her eyebrows and then looked at her advisor.

"'Meet me at midnight, my silver-haired beauty, for I long greatly for your touches. Also, please take the lead this time, I love it when you are masterful. Celeborn.''"

Galadriel tapped her foot impatiently. Orophin considered fleeing through the window. Celeborn considered this option as well, remembered that he was bound to the headboard, and instead closed his eyes, sending a prayer to the Valar, begging for a quick, hopefully painless death.

Orophin stared at Galadriel and the scroll as if he had never seen the lady of the Golden Woods before.

"How is this possible? How could this happen?" he asked. Then he looked at Erestor, who stood behind Galadriel, wiggled his fingers and grinned.

"This could happen because neither you nor my husband have any self-restraint."

Galadriel turned her back to the two naked Elves and gave Erestor a sympathetic look.

"My dear Master Erestor, you have earned my gratitude. The Valar know I had suspected that my husband had been picking flowers outside of our matrimonial garden for quite a while. Come, follow me, Master Erestor, and help me prepare for my departure."

"But Galadriel... blossom..." Celeborn groaned. "You cannot leave me here... and what about the Mithril?"

"You can stick your Mithril where the sun does not shine but the wind always blows, Celeborn!" Galadriel barked at him. "May Elrond keep it, I sure do not need it. See to it that you are ready for travel tomorrow in the early morning, both you and your - silver-haired beauty!"

With that, she rushed out of the pavilion, followed by Erestor, who at least had the good grace not to whistle.

For a moment, Orophin just stood and stared. Then he began to tremble, making sounds so odd that Celeborn feared his advisor might have a fit over this incident. When he realised that Orophin was not howling in anger but with laughter, he yelled at him.

"Stop standing there, laughing like the village fool, you oaf!" he barked. "This is your entire fault, anyway! So much for 'Erestor will eat out of my hands'! It will be a cold day in Orodruin before I ever trust you again! Now come over here and give me hand, my arms are getting tired!"

"Ahahahaha! That one has led us on fine, my lord – by the Valar, I might have met my match!" Orophin laughed.

"Good to know that you find this embarrassing, humiliating situation amusing. You are not the one who has to deal with my wife, after all! When she is angry, she has thirty fingers and four sets of teeth, and I will be the one on the receiving end of her wrath!"

Orophin looked over his shoulder. What a sight! A very angry, very naked and very handsome Celeborn, conveniently bound to the bed frame. He considered the situation for a moment, then he closed the door to the pavilion, this time turning the key, then he bestowed a predatory smile on Celeborn.

When Celeborn caught the implication of this gesture, he first arched an eyebrow in outrage and opened his mouth to protest. Then he looked Orophin up and down, liked what he saw and shrugged.

"Ah well – as we will be punished for it, anyway, we might as well do it."

"It will be my pleasure to give you a hand, my lord," Orophin replied, and bowed his head. "And I dare say, it will be your pleasure as well."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all ends well that started out badly.

Had his bed always been that uncomfortable? Or was it just the fact that he was all alone that made Glorfindel toss and turn, unable to find sleep?

Glorfindel stared at the blank wall and thought back to the first time he had met Erestor. The inn he and his guards had stayed at during their chase for the robbers had been dirty, cold and damp, but at the moment, it seemed to be far more welcoming to Glorfindel than his own chamber. He looked up, out of the window, and could see the stars blinking in the night sky. Usually he enjoyed their calming light, but now he felt as if they were mocking him from their lofty home.

To Mordor with them.

Glorfindel sighed deeply. He had seen neither hair nor hide of Erestor since the end of the meeting. Not a single word had been exchanged between them for days, only angry looks. He had no doubt where Erestor was spending the night; Orophin's smug grin had told him all there was to know.

The irony!  
He had caught a thief.  
The thief had stolen his heart.  
And now the thief had been stolen from him.

This was the material tragic comedies were made of. Entertaining for the audience, but a torture for those who had to live through it. Quite obviously, he was playing the part of the buffoon.

It was not fair: Orophin could have them all, why did it have to be Erestor, of all the Elves? Orophin did not need Erestor, but he, Glorfindel, needed him very much! As much as he had always complained that Erestor was too loud, too annoying, too cheerful, too everything – he had secretly enjoyed his company. It warmed his heart to listen to Erestor's silly chatter. At times, he envied Erestor for being so carefree and for his happiness; all the things Glorfindel had lost so long ago in a blaze of fire.

Glorfindel almost hit his head on the wall when the door was opened and then smashed closed.

"What in the…" he began.

"No reason to panic, it is only me," Erestor said. He looked tired, yet very smug.

"What are you doing here?" Glorfindel croaked.

Erestor arched an eyebrow.

"Well, as these are your chambers, it would seem to me rather obvious that I came to see you," he replied. He padded across the floor and sat down beside Glorfindel on the bed.

Glorfindel eyed Erestor suspiciously.

"Are you here to mock me?" he asked. Erestor started at the cold tone of Glorfindel's voice.

"No. No, I am here to apologise," he said, staring at a spot above Glorfindel's head.

"Apologise?"

Glorfindel could not have been more surprised if Erestor had entered to announce that he had just decided to join a wandering company as a minstrel. Somehow, the words "apologise" and "I" just did not seem to go together where Erestor was concerned.

"You see, I have been thinking," Erestor began.

"Now that is great news indeed," Glorfindel growled. At the same moment, he could have kicked himself. Why did he have to say this? The truth was that he was happy beyond words that he had his thief back, if only for a brief moment. All of a sudden, his chamber seemed to be the most beautiful one in Imladris, and the stars above were smiling down on him.

"I have been thinking that different characters need different approaches," Erestor continued without reacting to the interruption. "I wear my heart on my sleeve; you have yours locked up in the cellar with the potatoes for the winter. These are differences that one has to consider. Do you understand?"

"Of course," Glorfindel said, though he did not understand a single word.

"Of course you do not. What I am trying to say is: if you go hunting for Orcs, you will take appropriate weapons with you. Chasing them armed with nothing but a set of tooth picks would not do much good, now would it?"

"I guess not."

"For reasons I cannot fathom you are not able to say something simple like 'I am happy to have you with me again'," Erestor continued. "Instead you come up with a predictable and unwitty remark about my intelligence. You also cannot say 'I love you, Erestor', though you obviously do. No, you would rather sit at a table and glare daggers at Orophin, entertaining all of Imladris with your obvious jealousy."

Glorfindel turned crimson. Had he been that obvious?

Erestor looked Glorfindel straight in the eyes, reached out and gently stroked his cheek.

"I like my life here, Fin. There are no big adventures, that is true, and maybe you are a little too staid, too settled in your ways for my taste. At times, you drive me insane with your traditions and rules. But you make me feel wanted and needed, and not alone anymore."

This was a side of Erestor's character Glorfindel had never seen. So Erestor had felt lonely, too? Someone as merry and charming as him? Then he might be able to understand Glorfindel better than he had thought.

"I have been wrong, Fin," Erestor continued. "I wanted you to hunt me with the weapons I know. Maybe I should have seen that you care for me without expecting you to declare your love. You do not use big words, which is the way you are. But see, I need to know if you want and need and love me in return. That is the way I am."

Glorfindel reached out, cupping Erestor's face in his hands. Erestor closed his eyes, leaning into the caress, and Glorfindel kissed him. It was nothing more than a short brushing of lips, a far cry from the passionate kisses they had exchanged in the past, but to Erestor, it meant the world.

"I love you," Glorfindel simply said.

"Good. Now move over," Erestor replied.

Still wearing boots and clothes, he stretched out on the bed, wrapping his arms around Glorfindel and sighing happily when he buried his face in Glorfindel's chest. Erestor could hear his lover's heartbeat, could smell the mixture of wood and saddle leather and bow wax that was so typical for him.

Glorfindel pressed a soft kiss on Erestor's head. Finally, he had truly arrived home.

* * *

Elrond could not sleep. So many worries! The Mithril was gone, which was annoying, but he would be able to live with it. Or without it, depending on one's point of view. He just truly hated being bested by Celeborn and Orophin. And then there was Feronil, who had been increasingly depressed these last days.

Feronil came through the door that lead to the bathing chamber, yawned and joined Elrond in the large bed. He looked rather pleased with himself, and Elrond wondered what might have caused that mood swing.

"You look very happy," he said.

"That is because I am happy," Feronil replied. He kissed Elrond on the nose, and wrapped a strand of Elrond's hair around his finger. "I am always happy when I can be with you."

Elrond allowed his face to relax in a small smile.

"That is most charming, beloved, and if it is the truth, it makes me very happy as well. Alas, I feel that there must be more to your merry mood it than just my presence."

Feronil stretched out like a lazy cat, then he rolled over and came to lie atop of Elrond.

"Well, let us just say that this has been a very successful day, dear Elrond," he said, and began to unlace his lover's nightshirt.

Elrond laughed bitterly.

"I have never thought you to be sarcastic, Feronil. The Mithril is gone, Glorfindel has lost Erestor to this – individual, and Celeborn is so triumphant I have a hard time not throttling him."

Feronil snickered.

"I cannot see what is so amusing about it, Feronil," Elrond snapped, now slightly annoyed.

"It is amusing to know that the Lothlórien delegation will leave tomorrow, for one," Feronil said.

"They will? Really?" Elrond sat up in the bed, almost knocking Feronil over. "How come?"

Feronil shrugged.

"Let us just say that Erestor had some rather convincing arguments speaking for their early departure."

"Erestor? What has… is this about Orophin? Did he talk to Orophin?"

"Possibly."

Elrond was very confused.

"I do not understand this. Only a few hours ago, Orophin was pestering me to talk with him tomorrow about a schedule for delivering the Mithril. And now this?"

Feronil pulled the cover up over his shoulder.

"Orophin, it seems, has decided that Lothlórien does not need the Mithril."

Elrond only stared at his lover.

"Not?"

"No. Furthermore, he also decided that he does not need Erestor, or rather, Erestor decided that he does not need Orophin. So Erestor is with Glorfindel, the Mithril stays in Imladris, the Lothlórien delegation will hopefully stay in the Golden Wood for many, many years to come, and I am here with you. It would be nice if you could pay some attention to that specific fact."

Elrond gave Feronil a very suspicious look.

"Do I want to know what has been going on behind my back these last days?" he asked.

Feronil shook his head rather firmly.

"No."

Elrond wondered if he should further inquire in the matter, but as Feronil had now managed to open the lacings, he decided that this could also wait till the next morning.

* * *

The courtyard outside of the Last Homely House was alive with horses and Elves. The sudden departure of the Lothlórien delegation caused quite a stir, and was a challenge for servants and stable hands.

Orophin's horse neighed, prancing on the spot impatiently. The Elf patted the neck of the beautiful white steed and calmed him down. "There, there old friend. We shall soon leave, I miss our home as well."

"I hope you will both arrive home well and unharmed," Erestor's voice could be heard behind them.

Orophin turned around. For a brief moment he felt rage at the sight of the serious concern on Erestor's face, but in the end, he had to smile.

"I hope so, too, Master Erestor. After all, it is my greatest wish to return very soon and spend again some time in your company."

He bowed his head, half in mocking, half in respect, and Erestor returned the gesture.

"I am looking forward to your return," Erestor replied.

"So am I."

Orophin smiled.

"This was truly a masterpiece, Erestor. I dare say that I have not been so masterfully fooled since my days as an Elfling."

Erestor blushed.

"Thank you. Coming from you, that is a great compliment."

Orophin looked up in the sky, blinking at the brightness of the sun.

"I wonder, though. Has this all been planned? Our meetings? The dinner? The… dessert?" he asked, without looking at Erestor.

Erestor blew a strand of hair out of his face.

"I will be honest with you, Orophin, and that is a skill I have not mastered very well as I hardly ever use it. Had I met you at another time of my life, I would have followed you happily to the end of Middle-earth and back again. You have all I admire in an Elf, and you are one of the fairest beings I have ever come across. I suppose I could look at you and talk to you for centuries without ever getting tired of you. Does this answer your question?"

Orophin gave Erestor a thoughtful look. Then he pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It does."

Then he mounted his horse, but before leaving to join the rest of the Lothlórien delegation, he could not help but play out his last card.

"As I said, this was a masterpiece, Erestor. However, it was not perfect. What would my lady Galadriel say if I gave her the agreement you signed?"

Erestor shrugged.

"I am not holding you back, Orophin. However, before you show it to her, read it first to make sure it really is the agreement you think it to be, and not a request by Lord Celeborn to bring a whip along for your next tryst."

Orophin quickly put his hand in his jerkin, where the scroll was safely tucked away.

Erestor grinned.

"Ah, Imladris is a dangerous place, Orophin. Thieves and pickpockets wherever you turn!"

Orophin laughed.

"I give up – for now. Well met, Master Erestor. And I freely admit that I have underestimated your skills as an advisor and thief."

Erestor shook his head.

"Oh no, Orophin – you have only underestimated one thing."

The Lothlórien Elf gave him a puzzled look. "Which would be...?"

Erestor looked over to the gathering of horses and Elves, where Glorfindel stood with his guards, wearing the same old garb as he always did. He looked calm, happy, and when he saw Erestor watching him, he gave him a smile that outshone the sun.

"This would be that I love Glorfindel, and that neither wealth nor adventures nor the fairest face on Arda could make me leave him. Namárie, Orophin."

He waved one last time at Orophin, then he walked across the courtyard, and when Orophin turned to have one last look at Imladris, he saw Erestor standing next to Glorfindel.

"Lucky bastard," he muttered. Celeborn, who, for some reason, sat very gingerly in his saddle and winced from time to time, gave him a puzzled look. "Who are you talking about?" he asked.

Orophin gave him a thoughtful look. Finally, he laughed, bowed his head and winked at Celeborn.

"I have been talking about you, my lord," Orophin replied, and despite a certain discomfort, Celeborn could not help but agree with him.

 

The End


End file.
